I Was Looking For You
by worldtravellingfly
Summary: Harry can't catch a break. Ever. But in the course of the latest drama to wreak her life, she at least gets to see more of the world. One has to count one's blessings after all. (Fem!Harry)
1. The Oops

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.

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So, back in 2016, I visited Empty for a week or so in the summer and we were a bit bored (and on an Ouran kick). So I went: "What if Harry got pregnant by accident with Mori's baby?" And Empty went: "Sounds cool, but what if it was Kyouya's baby?"  
And that's how we ended up writing sister fics with Fem!harry getting knocked up by a Host Club member. (We have more where these came from.)

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Dancing couples, colorful, glittering lights. The smell of spilled alcohol, sweating people, and little opportunity for fresh air. Booming music spilling from speakers all around the room.  
And his eyes, gray like storm clouds, yet oddly calm, looking at hers.

Just for the fraction of a second.

It had been more than enough time to fascinate her drunk self.

He had loomed over nearly everyone else, taller than her by more than a head. Broad shoulders, accentuated by a white shirt, which in the course of the evening had become more and more unbuttoned. Black slacks, black tie, black hair.

She had ignored her usual inhibitions and swallowed down what she couldn't ignore. The aftertaste was graciously washed away with a little more Gin and Tonic.

Then she had dragged him on the dance floor, time after time.

He had been game, following along. Treating her like a lady, despite both of them having drunk their fair share.

His chivalry, even when buzzed, had led to her actually testing the waters for a little more.

He had invited her to his hotel room.

She had accepted. What else was there to say?

He was devastatingly handsome.

She wasn't. And she knew it too.

Those who knew how she had gotten her scars always treated her like some sort of saint, something they dare not despoil. Or like a sister, if they cared for the person beneath the scars. Those who had no idea how she received her scars did not give her a second glance.

Usually.

But this silent, seemingly _shy_ gentleman, he had appeared to see her.

So off Harry went.

And even two months later, she did not regret what had followed afterward. Even when the consequences were literally life-changing.

oooo

Of course, Hermione and Ron were the first to know. She had come to them with her suspicions. Hermione had even gone to get a few pregnancy tests for her, from the drug store near her parents' house.

Then held Harry's hand as they waited for the results.

Ron had reassured her that everything would be well. Whatever happened. They'd always be there to support her.

After that, they had convened in a sort of unofficial war council.

"Did you use protection?" Hermione asked methodically, going through a list of questions to prepare her for the obstetrician visit.

"A condom and the potion."

Emma, Hermione's mother, poured her adopted second daughter another cup of cherry blossom tea. "You are just the exception to prove the rule, dear, aren't you? Now if only I could convince you to play the lottery with me..."

Harry snorted into her tea, while Hermione rolled her eyes.

Ron smirked. "That's what Mum says too!"

"So, you used protection. Are you sure the condom didn't rip?"

"As sure as I can be."

Hermione sighed. "Well, I suppose that's all I could imagine them asking about that. What do you know about Baby Daddy?"

Harry blushed. "Well..."

"Not a whole lot, I'm guessing?" Dan, Hermione's father, sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Unfortunately not. He said I could call him Mori. He has gray eyes, black hair, is definitely Asian, and very considerate. Also, I think he's pretty well-off."

"That's a start, at least," Hermione said, jotting down everything Harry had mentioned.

"Which part of Asia would you say he's from?"

"Japan? He mentioned something about going to school in Tokyo? I think. But I'm not sure."

"What is he doing in London then? Japan is quite a long way to go, even for wizards," Ron wondered aloud, scratching his chin.

"Well, it could be that he came for business reasons? Maybe wanting to work abroad?" Emma suggested, absentmindedly rubbing Harry's back. "Or he wants to learn to speak better English? Possibly studying here?"

"I don't think so. He spoke English pretty fluently, with a slight American accent even. And he was far too well-dressed for a university student. It could be that he's from old money or the Japanese equivalent."

That caught Dan's attention. "Why old money?"

Harry's blush deepened. "Well... He must have been raised as a true gentleman. The way he treated me was..." Her voice trailed off, as memories of their one night stand flickered back to life in her mind.

Ron cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. "Back with us, Harry?"

"Leave her alone. That boy must have been very good to still evoke those memories," Emma reprimanded her future son-in-law with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

Dan groaned into his hands, burying his head in them. Then he stared at the ceiling, wondering out loud what he had ever done in a previous life to deserve this.

"Are you going to tell him, dear?" Emma wondered, sparing her husband a new gray hair.

Harry nodded decisively. "He deserves to know. I mean, I will keep the baby, but for both their sakes, I have to tell him."

"You don't _have_ to," Dan pointed out.

Only to be met with several questioning looks and a heated glare.

"Hey," he said, raising his arms in the air, "I am just making sure you know that you have other choices."

"Thank you. But I will tell him. He gets one chance to decide if he wants to be in the baby's life or not. If he chooses to not be involved, I can at least go with a clean conscience."

Emma slung an arm around her second daughter's shoulder, smiling down at her. "And if he's as dishy as you make him sound, well... You can't get more pregnant than you already are."

"MUUM!" and "Emma!" rang out simultaneously.

Harry had to laugh, against her will.

"So, where do we start looking?"

"I have no clue," Harry admitted. But she was positively beaming at everyone present.

Dan sighed again, pushing the teapot towards her. "Well, we can at least help with the gynecologist. That's if you don't want to go to a magical doctor?"

"NO! For Merlin's sake! The whole world would know a day later!" Harry's face had lost all its color within seconds.

Emma glared at her husband, then soothed Harry as best as she could. "It's okay, darling."

Hermione nodded. "I'll look for anything pregnancy-related in the library. I'll also check the owl- order catalogs in case there's differences for magical pregnancies. Ron, you and Harry should probably start looking at spells to locate missing persons, or related information. I don't think we'll go far without a name and just a general description in the Muggle world."

Ron saluted. "Aye aye, ma'am."

Harry tapped her chin. "I think we should try private investigators in addition to the spells. We might find out his full name, but that won't give us any information about his background or address etc. "

Dan nodded approvingly. "I can ask around if anyone trustworthy has recommendations. Some of my old mates from the military might know someone."

Harry hugged everyone tightly. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. I really appreciate all the trouble you're going through for me."

Emma smiled at her. "No need to thank us, dear. You're family."


	2. Mission: Baby Daddy

No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

Sorry for the long wait!

* * *

-2-

* * *

 _circa two weeks later_

Harry found herself sitting in a comfortable waiting room, holding Hermione's hand. A plaque next

to them read _S. Commodore_ _–_ _Investigations_. Potted plants were crammed on the windowsill,

adding some much needed color to the creamy-white color scheme.

A secretary with an unfortunate perm was typing away on a keyboard, occasionally staring at them

in what she probably thought was a discreet manner.

It wasn't.

Two massive art prints hung on the wall opposite from the two witches. Something supposedly modern in black and white.

At least the couch was comfortable, Harry thought, exchanging a look with Hermione.

Her sister from another mister nodded encouragingly, ignoring the sterile environment with

practiced ease.

"Lady Potter-"

Harry considered jumping out of the window for just a second, but then reminded herself of her

precious cargo. She'd do it at a later date.

Hermione glowered at the man wearing a pristine suit and designer glasses, who had called them

up. "Mr. Commodore?"

"Yes, of course. Please enter and take a seat. Would you prefer some refreshments?" Even his accent was practiced upper-class and came across as arrogant.

Hermione and Harry sat down in ultra-modern chairs in front of a matching desk.

A portrait of the Queen hung behind the massive wooden construct, framed by a variety of diplomas and cut outs from various newspapers depicting Mr. Commodore.

White filing cabinets lined the equally white walls. There was a green rug on the wooden floor, but

no curtains in front of the large windows.

It smelled faintly of cleaning spray.

Harry tore herself out of unpleasant memories of Aunt Petunia's daily cleaning regiment, focusing on the man sitting opposite from her.

"No, thank you. We would like to go straight to business, please," Hermione insisted with a fake

smile.

She could probably cut glass with the edges of that expression.

Harry nodded, hoping to speed up the whole process. She didn't want to stay in this environment

any longer than necessary.

Mr. Commodore opened a locked cabinet, retrieving a folder. He placed it on the desk, then

carefully seated himself once more. "Why do you wish to know more about Mr. Morinozuka?"

"Personal reasons," Harry replied, keeping her tone neutral and bland. She could hardly tell him that she had had a one night stand with the poor guy and was expecting his baby at the moment, could she?

"It was not easy to find out more about this man. He seems very well protected. On the other hand,

there is quite a bit of public information readily available if one only knows where to look. You

mentioned only wishing more about his background, not requiring banking information or other,

more personal data, thus I concentrated on providing you with more shallow data."

He pushed the file across his desk, then opening it. It contained two copies of a rather thin folder.

"Mr. Morinozuka went to a prestigious school in Tokyo, Japan. He was national Kendo champion,

several times, as well as placing first, second, or third multiple times during Karate tournaments.

Until three months ago, he lived with his parents and younger brother."

"What happened three months ago?" Harry wondered.

"He moved to London, following his successful graduation from business and law school. He lived

in the United States of America for a time, but returned to finish his studies in Japan. According to

several announcements I found, his family is quite well-connected and presumably belongs to the

upper-class."

Hermione flipped through the sheets in the folder at almost lightning speed.

Harry trusted her to note anything which seemed strange.

"What is his current occupation?"

"He works for a Japanese business firm. We are not quite sure what they do, but they seem to be

specialized on security."

"And where does he currently live?"

"Near Hyde Park, the exact address is on the first page. I trust this is all satisfactory to you?"

Harry considered the paper in her hands. She hadn't even opened the file. So she sent a quick look at

her best friend.

Hermione nodded discreetly.

"Everything seems to be in order. Thank you for your swift and conscientious service, Mr.

Commodore."

They shook hands, although Mr. Commodore appeared to wish to bow, of all possible things, to

Harry.

He then guided them to the waiting room which doubled as a sort of lobby, wishing them

safe travels.

Harry swore to herself to never, ever return to this obsequious snob.

Once they finally stepped back onto the streets outside, she finally opened the paper file.

Her eyes were drawn to the first picture, lying on top of the information package.

It was _him_. Definitely.

She'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

Hermione nudged her gently. "Okay?"

"Okay," Harry replied, taking a deep, calming breath. "Let's do this."

oooo

They regrouped in the Granger's living room. Harry and Hermione were cradling a cup of warm chocolate, waiting for the others to come home.

Harry had nearly buried herself into her friend's side, like a cat looking for a cuddle session.

Hermione had an arm slung across her shoulders, one hand absentmindedly playing with a strand of black hair. She was reading, predictably.

Their cozy calm was disrupted when Ron Apparated to the back door, in view of the living room windows.

"How did it go?"

"We have a name and a face," Harry replied, slowly making space for Ron on the couch.

He squeezed his lanky frame onto the two seater, but then settled her feet onto his lap.

"And an address."

"Good. That's good. Right?"

"Yeah..." Harry agreed.

"What's that face for, mate?" Ron began to massage her feet. "You can still change your mind."

She scrunched up her nose, shaking her head lightly. While also trying not to dislodge Hermione's book.

"I guess...I'm just nervous. What if he doesn't even remember me? Or doesn't want to even see me? I mean, he doesn't know me. Who I am. We're basically strangers. Why should he trust me?"

Ron tugged on her feet, gently. "I hate to tell you this mate, but you're pretty much the exact opposite of forgettable. What's the worst that could happen when you talk to him?"

Harry avoided his eyes, fiddling with a loose strand on Fifth Year's Christmas sweater.

"The absolute worst case scenario?"

"Maybe throwing me out of his apartment once he hears what I have to say? Or not believing me? Or, or just not even allowing me to see him? To tell him?"

"Well, you still have us, the Grangers, all the Weasleys, and most of the DA to help raise your little imp. If that dunderhead can't appreciate you or the baby - that's his problem. Not your's."

Harry gave Ron a hug to the best of her ability, considering their rather precarious position.

"Thank you."


End file.
